


Cookies and Muffins and Pies

by rieraclaelin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Mention of Past Abusive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting Together, Good Derek Hale, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Stress Baking, not between Derek and Stiles though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/pseuds/rieraclaelin
Summary: “You only bake pies when you are upset,” Derek said quietly.“What are you talking about, dude?” Stiles sighed as he pulled the blueberry filling out from the refrigerator and set it on the counter to wait for the pie crust to finish.“You make muffins when you’re tired and have had a rough day at work. You make cookies when you are angry at Scott for something, which, judging by how our cookie jar at the meetings is always full, you must be angry at him a lot. Not that I blame you.” Stiles snorted as he still refused to look at Derek, but he could feel his shoulders hunching up the more he talked. “But pies? Pies are when you are really upset. When you are hurt. What happened?”





	Cookies and Muffins and Pies

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of those ideas that just kinda hit me in the face and refused to leave me alone until I wrote it, so, uh, here you go :P I hope you like it! 
> 
> Lightly betaed by myself, so any mistakes seen are my own.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://rieraclaelin.tumblr.com/post/187379803479/so-this-was-one-of-those-ideas-that-kinda-hit-me%22)

So, Stiles liked to stress bake. It wasn’t a big deal, and he never tried to draw attention to it. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. His father never questioned the bran muffins Stiles would send over to his house for his breakfasts, and the cookies never lasted long enough around pack meetings for anyone to even wonder where they came from. Who cared if there were more than enough pies at Thanksgiving, it was pretty much expected that food would be abundant, right? So, yeah, he was doing a pretty damn good job of acting like everything was perfectly fine. Because it _ was _fine.

Which is why it came as a complete surprise to him when Derek pointed it out.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked from the doorway, and Stiles did not jump and shriek at his sudden presence. He _ didn’t_. Who cared if Derek’s smug grin suggested otherwise.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?” Stiles replied as he pressed the dough into the bottom of the pie tin. He shot Derek a glare and rolled his eyes as Derek’s lips twitched into a smile. Stupid Derek with his stupid beautiful face and his stupid beautiful smile and-- no. He wasn’t going to fall down that rabbit hole again. Not now, not when Derek was standing right there.

“You are making a pie.”

“So? Lots of people make pies.” Stiles finished with the dough, then placed the pie crust into the oven to prebake and set the timer. He turned to see Derek leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. His smile was replaced with a look of concern and Stiles turned away to wash his hands. Nothing was wrong, dammit.

“You only bake pies when you are upset,” Derek said quietly. 

“What are you talking about, dude?” Stiles sighed as he pulled the blueberry filling out from the refrigerator and set it on the counter to wait for the pie crust to finish.

“You make muffins when you’re tired and have had a rough day at work. You make cookies when you are angry at Scott for something, which, judging by how our cookie jar at the meetings is always full, you must be angry at him a lot. Not that I blame you.” Stiles snorted as he still refused to look at Derek, but he could feel his shoulders hunching up the more he talked. “But pies? Pies are when you are really upset. When you are hurt. What happened?”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as subtle and sneaky as he thought he was. Either that or maybe Derek just had an unfair advantage with his stupid werewolfy senses. 

“I’m fine,” Stiles said. Why was it taking so long for his crust to finish baking? Maybe his oven was broken, he thought, as he reached for the handle.

“_Stiles_.”

Stiles let his hand drop and stared at the floor. His face got hot and he could feel tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, and he was not going to cry, dammit! He bit his lip until the prickling stopped, then took a deep breath and turned to look at Derek.

“I ran into Chad at the grocery store.”

“Your ex?” Derek asked quietly. Stiles nodded and Derek uncrossed his arms then walked over to stand next to him. “What’d he do?”

Stiles laughed bitterly as the oven timer finally beeped at him and he put on his oven mitts. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he said as he opened the oven and pulled out the crust. Derek hummed and closed the oven door. “He made sure to tell me all about the new girl he was seeing, about how they had all this time to go on trips, and how _ she _was a good girlfriend who wasn’t too busy with work to spend time with him.”

Stiles felt Derek’s hand rest on his shoulder, and Stiles allowed himself to lean into the contact for a second. Okay, maybe two. He’d move away eventually.

“He asked if I had found anyone yet who was able to put up with my constant talking without getting a headache. He said… he said that at least my dick sucking skills made up for everything else about me.” 

“Stiles--” Derek said, but Stiles stopped him by slamming the pie tin down on the counter and whipping off the oven mitts.

Stiles' eyes were prickling again and he closed them tightly to stop himself from crying. Derek nudged at Stiles until he turned so that he was facing him, then Stiles felt Derek’s hand cradle his face. He opened his eyes as Derek used his thumb to tug on Stiles’ bottom lip, and he realized he had been biting it again, hard enough that he could taste blood.

“I know I shouldn’t listen to him. I know, now, that he was abusive and a dick, and I _ know _I’m more than a cheap lay. But it’s hard to listen to that and just ignore it.” Stiles took a shaky breath as a tear slipped down his face and Derek thumbed it away.

“Fuck Chad,” Derek said sharply, and Stiles jumped a little. “You are so much more than that, Stiles. Anybody would be lucky to be with you”

“You’re just saying that because you are my friend, and you have to,” Stiles said with a small smile. It was hard to ignore his feelings when Derek said stuff like that to him. He had been fighting this feeling for a long time now, and most times it was easy. But it was so much harder to do now when he felt vulnerable and sure that every emotion was visible on his face.

Derek’s eyes darted over to the counter before he took a deep breath then let it out slowly. He looked back at Stiles, and Stiles blinked at the intensity of his look. 

“No. I’m saying that because I like you.”

“Like me?” Stiles asked quietly. “As a friend?”

“No, not. Not just as a friend, Stiles.”

Stiles’ breath whooshed out of him. His heart was beating hard enough that he was sure if he looked down, he’d be able to see his chest moving. He knew for a fact that Derek could hear it.

“I want. I need.” Derek shook his head with a small growl, and Stiles brought his hand up to cup Derek’s cheek.

“What do you want, Derek?”

Derek looked into Stiles’ eyes, and Stiles’ belly clenched and somersaulted at the way Derek’s eyes softened. 

“You,” Derek said.

“Me?”

Derek nodded. “I understand if you don’t want me back, Stiles. I’m not saying this to pressure you. I just. I want you to know that there is someone out there who appreciates and wants you for _ you. _Talking and all.”

“You like my talking.” It wasn’t a question, but Derek still nodded. Stiles slowly smiled, and his smile grew when Derek smiled back. He brought up a finger to trace Derek’s smile, then looked back into his eyes.

“And you listen to me.”

“I listen to you.”

“No,” Stiles said. “You _ really _listen to me. Even when I’m not saying anything, you listen to me,” he said as he gestured around to the counter where his pie crust and filling sat.

“I do.”

“Are you listening to me right now?” Stiles asked. Derek tilted his head as he stared at him and nodded. Stiles would never say it out loud, but the expression reminded him of an adorable little puppy.

“Good. I want you, too, and not just as a friend. I want to woo you, and kiss you, and cuddle you, and do all those sappy, gross things that couples who like each other do.”

Derek’s smile was so bright that Stiles wanted to say something cliche like how he was standing too close to the sun. But Derek pulled him in for a tight hug, and Stiles would much rather melt into his arms than talk. He vowed, though, to always find a way to make Derek smile like that.

Derek pulled back and stared at Stiles, then leaned in to press a quick kiss to his forehead. Stiles shivered even while his whole body went hot, which was confusing, but honestly? He liked it and looked forward to feeling it again.

“So…” Derek said as he looked behind Stiles at the counter. Stiles hummed.

“So, how do you feel about helping me finish this pie and then maybe going out to dinner?” Stiles asked.

“I feel pretty damn good about it,” Derek replied.

“Good,” Stiles said. He reached for Derek’s hand, gave it a squeeze, then they both moved to the counter to finish the pie, side by side.


End file.
